Stars…
“Use the stars…
Shiny gold ones, foiled and glinting with sunlight
Chart them row by row.
Measure what is right, what works.
Use the golden stars.”
And so I measured out handfuls of stars.
I charted them row by row.
I measured them, glinting and shiny…
Like hope.
It worked well.
My star, I hitched my wagon to
Like Emerson said to
Golden shining, reflecting sunlight
I swore I saw a flashing and a dartling blue
Joy dancing and hope shimmering
In the flashing darling blue
High and unattainable
Like Browning’s I suppose…
Much like Browning,
I do not regret that others’ stars are their world
But I do wonder…
Did my star ever really open its soul to me?
But Mr. Browning… I too love it.
——————————————————————————————–
My Star – Robert Browning
All, that I know
Of a certain star
Is, it can throw
(Like the angled spar)
Now a dart of red,
Now a dart of blue
Till my friends have said
They would fain see, too,
My star that dartles the red and the blue!
Then it stops like a bird; like a flower, hangs furled:
They must solace themselves with the Saturn above it.
What matter to me if their star is a world?
Mine has opened its soul to me; therefore I love it.
Filed under: Uncategorized on August 30th, 2010
Leave a Reply